


That Diner Outside School Campus

by m_number24



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, diner au, people can't figure out stiles and derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_number24/pseuds/m_number24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every other Saturday, two students would visit this diner. They’d sit together, face to face, on that table two spaces away from the jukebox and literally beside the store’s enormous glass window. </p><p>They were like any other students, really. </p><p>But for the workers of Vernon’s, they were the most difficult to figure out.</p><p>(5+1 fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Diner Outside School Campus

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this a year before and reread it a few days ago and decided to post it. 
> 
> i've been meaning to write this type of fic for a long time now and well, i actually got to finish this one. so huhu i hope y'all like it.

Outside the school campus, there stood a small diner. It wasn’t exactly fancy with classy meals or anything. It was a food place that sold food that was both affordable and downright delicious, as some students would comment.

Every other Saturday, two students would visit this diner. They’d sit together, face to face, on that table two spaces away from the jukebox and literally beside the store’s enormous glass window.

They were like any other students, really.

But for the workers of _Vernon’s_ , they were the most difficult to figure out.

 

* * *

 

 

**I – CYNTHIA BOYD**

All the students that entered the shop called her “Mommy C” or merely “Cynthia” but never would she let them call her “Grandma” or “Gammy”. Cynthia may be nearing seventy but she could probably do more jumping jacks than any high school student could manage, she usually said.

When her diner was newly opened, only a few usually came by at first. It wasn’t surprising. She opened it in the middle of the school year, after all. Students were obviously busy, studying for midterms or catching up with projects and probably downing themselves with ready-to-make meals or take out, to which she’d usually cluck her tongue out at in disapproval.

 

The second Saturday her store reached, two new students entered.

 

One had messy dark hair that looked like had been ruffled throughout the whole morning, wearing a plain white shirt along with loose jeans whose colors were already faded. He held himself up, relaxed and lazy but the smile on his face was bright and genuine when met with the old lady’s polite, “Welcome”

The other oozed out a different feel. He wore a dark green sweater and jeans like any other student but his posture was, say, intense. He looked bitter especially with the face he was wearing right now. It was as though he was having an awful morning and as though he was only forced to come to this diner. Cynthia tried not to be too offended at that thought.

 The two were obviously total opposites.

 

Cynthia watched the two choose a table. The cheerful one was grinning, pushing at the other who only glared back. The serious one’s posture was pretty tense now at all the smile-y one’s attempts. The lady frowned slightly, they don’t get along then.

She approached the two’s table, notepad on her hand. She could vaguely hear one’s voice gradually getting louder as she got nearer.

 

“Oh c’mon, Derek.”

No reply.

 

“I’m sorry, just next time, okay? Next time. Maybe a different place? I’m just starving, man”

Well, with that, it was obvious the intense one didn’t want to be here, the owner thought.

Also, still no reply.

 

Cynthia decided to do an act of pity and quickened her pace to the table to spare the young chap from talking further to the other who was probably equivalent to a brick wall with how adamantly he’s keeping silent.

Once she reached, she wore an apologetic smile, “Oh dearies, I’m sorry to overhear but we’ll try our best to meet your expectations.” She tilted her head towards _Derek,_ if she heard correctly a while ago. “But for the past few days, our food has been given nice comments; it would be great if you tried.” She then smiled because there’s no way she’s going to give up on this place just because of rude customers who don’t suit the shop’s tastes. This was her turf and she’ll fight for it.

 

The man who was speaking a while ago suddenly looked confused, gaping for a few seconds before speaking “Uh, yeah. We know? We’ve always wanted to go here since it opened just, what?”

 

A pregnant pause.

 

It was Cynthia’s turn to be confused, “But your friend seemed to express distaste, young man. With your conversation, you seem to be the only one interested. But I assure you, we serve—“

He suddenly shook his head wildly, “What, who, _Derek?_ Dude, he’s been wanting to eat here since you guys put up the “OPENING SOON” sign in blinking letters.” then laughed, “He wanted to catch the opening only if he didn’t have a test.”

The lady felt her brows furrow. Then what had she heard then? This young man said _Next time, different place_ plus the _I’m just starving_. Anyone could assume that one wanted to eat in a different food place while the other wanted to be here because of hunger.

 

The lad continued talking though, “We were actually arguing cuz Derek wanted to give you guys at least an opening present, ya know? Wine or something to congratulate cuz he said it was _polite.”_

There was a rumbling, “It _is_ polite,” that ended with a huff which stunned the old lady to embarrassment.

She turned to face Derek who didn’t look as intense as he was a while ago. Just tense and well, nervous but not only that, he also seemed embarrassed. _Oh dear._

She misunderstood and assumed the worst out of this poor lad when he was apparently only being thoughtful. She could feel her cheeks getting warm and opened her mouth to apologize when the mouthy one spoke up again, “Hey no, don’t say sorry. We always get this, I mean, Derek’s always had this chronic bitch face, you know so there’s no probs. Right, Der?”

Derek, who was now staring at Cynthia in a look she could see as something guilty, nodded, “Sorry, we didn’t get to get you something.”

He shifted his gaze towards the other boy to glare at him, “He says he’s too hungry to pass by the nearest convenience store.” To which said boy merely chuckled at.

“Dude, I swear, next time. I haven’t eaten since last night, cut me some slack.”

 

Cynthia was speechless to see this Derek suddenly snap and his face suddenly filled with concern, “You haven’t eaten since last night??”

The two went on with bickering and it was only then that the lady realized how close the two actually were. With how they move and how they looked at each other, they seemed like they’ve been good mates for a long time.

 

After a while, the two finally made their order. Derek ordering a milkshake and some lasagna while _Stiles_ ( _Yeah, yeah, I know, unusual but you should hear my first name.)_ ordered a cheeseburger, some curly fries and a large coke.

 

Cynthia went straight back to the back to help out in the kitchen since there weren’t exactly much customers. Her grandson, _Vernon III_ , who had a shift in the kitchen that Saturday, raised a brow at her.

“You alright?

 

She nodded, “Of course.” And shook off whatever expression she was wearing, “Okay, one lasagna, cheeseburger and curly fries. I’ll go prepare the drinks. Chop chop, hon.”

 

* * *

 

 

**II – ALLISON ARGENT**

Allison Argent was new to the whole work thing. But she couldn’t exactly do anything about it. She needed the extra money and well, the only thing she could think of is getting a part time job near campus. Cue a job opportunity at _Vernon’s_ , bless their souls.

She only had to wait, serve and smile. She was good at that. Another thing was that she was also pretty good at reading customers, their body language and such, thanks to her overprotective dad. Since she was a child, she’d know how to act around people. If she saw a lady whose gaze at her was somewhat annoyed, she’d keep her distance. If she saw a man or a stranger looking at her with this look that screamed strange interest, she’d be ready to run. If there was some sort of gathering and she would be presented with some sort of guest, she’d be ready on how to act towards them.

So now, a few days into working in the restaurant, she’s already made a lot of fun small talks. The customers adored her and sometimes, she’d even try to prepare their coffees for them considering the numerous workloads some would bring.

That was what was happening at that Saturday morning.

 

She was given an order to serve two mugs of coffee to a certain pair seated a few tables away from the jukebox. Their table was filled with papers and pictures, divided in the middle only by the salt and pepper cases.

Once she got the two mugs on the tray, she walked towards the table, a genuine smile plastered on her face, “Good morning! Here are your orders.”

The two men seated nodded as a polite gesture as she attempted to move a few stacks of papers to at least place the mugs, plus the small packets of sugar and creamer on the side.

She took a good look at the two then. Both were wearing glasses at the moment. The one on the right side was pale and seemed lanky under the loose graphic tee he was wearing. He had a pencil behind his ear and was currently holding a highlighter cap with his mouth. He looked like a silly guy and his eyes were round and bright.

To which, when Allison turned to see the other, was the total opposite of this guy.

The other guy had a broody and dark effect regardless of the fluffy looking sweater he was wearing. His expression was hard on the book he was currently reading and he had a pencil on one hand. His jaw looked clenched, as though frustrated, and his eyes were dark, shadowed by his long lashes.  Allison nodded to herself, _maybe_ _not a guy you should mess with._

She also noticed the fact that the two’s hands were full and this triggered her to do what she usually did to busy students, “You guys want me to prepare your coffee? I mean, you guys seem to be seriously busy and you guys might not be the type to ask someone-“

Her statement was cut off when the silly-looking guy suddenly blew the highlighter cap to the air and caught it in one. “Dude, that’s so sweet, yes please,” was the praise that followed which made Allison giggle at how ridiculous he sounded.

 

“So how do you guys like it then?”

 

“Oh, leave one be. The other, just use all the packets of sugar.”

 

Allison did exactly as she was told, cringing a bit at the amount of sugar (there were five packets) and once done, carefully stirred.

 She placed the one she finished stirring near the man wearing the graphic tee and moved the plain one near sweater guy. Basing on how they acted, of course the more cheerful one would have the sweet tooth, it was almost adorable. Then there’s the broody, scary one getting the black one. Allison could almost chuckle at how stereotypical it seemed considering the amount of online stories she’s read in her years.

The two men were back to concentrating again and Allison had taken that as a cue to turn and leave when suddenly, she heard a choking noise. She was already a few steps away from the table when she heard a new voice, one she’s assuming to be the quiet one from a while ago.

“Sh-She placed the mugs wrong— Jesus, Stiles, I really don’t understand how you deal with this bitter crap.”

 

Allison blinked to herself and turned to look and found this _Stiles_ bursting out into laughter, “Holy crap, good thing I haven’t taken a drink on mine. But Derek, I hope you know your coffee is much worse, Jesus. It’s like some sludge of diabetes.”

“Shut up.”

 

The waitress then witnessed the two exchanging their mugs then went back to their businesses like nothing happened.

She blinked more to herself and tried not to be embarrassed with the unexpected mix-up, then started contemplating on how she observed people.

 

* * *

 

 

**III – SCOTT MCCALL**

Scott McCall wasn’t exactly the best at budget managing so really, it’s not exactly a surprise that he’s broke, needing money for food and other human needs for survival. He didn’t want to call his mom because well, he’s a big boy now and he didn’t want her to worry. Which is why he ended up in _Vernon’s_ the very second he laid eyes on the “Wanted: A Waiter” flyer on the school’s bulletin.

Four days into the job, he could say that he’s doing great but apparently the customers don’t agree. They said he was too awkward when serving and honestly, Scott never thought it mattered. That is, until Cynthia went to talk to him, telling him to try and be like Allison with the small talks.

Which was totally fine with him because now, Allison was trying to teach him all about small talks and talking to Allison was nice. _Not the point._

 

Scott’s first test happened on his sixth day on the job. It was a Saturday, that time, and two customers entered. Cynthia suddenly elbowed him off the counter with a huge grin on her face, “They could be your first small talk. All I remember is that one of them is studying to be a cop, another studying to be an architect. They’re really nice young boys so it should be just fine, alright?”

Scott took a gulp of air and nodded. He got this.

 

He walked his way to the table, served the menus and readied his notepad. He noticed that only one of them was reading the menu (the one wearing this really cool Halo shirt, Scott would burst and high five him if it weren’t for the sake of being professional,) and the other wearing a purple Henley was just sitting there so Scott shrugged to himself thinking, _hey this must be the cop_ mostly because of his built and his threatening-looking face.

 

Scott wore a small smile and finally spoke, “So hey, how’s learning the cop life, officer?”

 

There was a snort coming from Halo guy.

 

Henley raised a brow, confused but still answered, “It’s… I’m probably not the best to ask that.”

 

Scott shook his head, “Ouch, rough then? Hey, man, I swear, it’ll all pass and it’ll be worth it!”

 

This caused Halo to snort again and Scott finally turned his head towards him because something was probably up. Halo shirt guy looked like he was holding his laughter and that made the waiter furrow his brows because _why?_ Scott decided to shrug again and forced to continue the conversation because he wasn’t going to give up on his first test, “And you’re the architect, right? How’s it there?”

Halo guy apparently snapped at this and started laughing really loud. Once the laughter died down, he finally answered Scott, “Dude, it’s great with buildings and shit. It’s fun with all the shapes and sketching, I swear. You also get different pencils.”

Scott was more than confused now and was about to comment when Henley spoke up this time.

“Yeah, well, learning to become a cop is great too. Knowing how to kill and you know what the best is though? Looking at pictures of flesh wounds every two am.”

 

Okay, something was very, very wrong because Scott was sure his voice was mocking instead of actually proud of being a cop. Was it that bad? Was he going through such a rough patch?

Halo guy laughed more though, “Yeah, dude. But hey, since I’m a future architect, I also get different types of rulers. It’s heaven.”

Henley was red and pouting now, “Those _‘_ rulers’ _are_ heaven.”

 

The laughing guy gave out a small huff and suddenly looked fond, “Yeah, I know. Kinda why I bought it for you, dude.”

Hold up. Now Scott was beyond confused because why would Halo give Henley those rulers? Why would they talk about their career choices that way? As though they were jokes and—

The waiter’s eyes widened in realization. He could feel his face getting hot in embarrassment and slowly, he faced Halo guy, “You’re the one studying to be the cop, aren’t you?”

“Well, main goal is to be a private investigator and run around with cops but,” the man cheekily answered with a resounding “Yeahp” Giving the “p” a pop sound.

Scott turned to Henley this time, biting the inside of his cheek, “And you’re the architect.” A nod was the response.

 

Scott took a breath and tried to force down any humiliation he was already feeling as he asked for their orders.

 

* * *

 

 

**IV – ERICA REYES**

Erica Reyes needed a job. Working in the lab had its perks, yeah. But it’s also downright expensive especially when you damage certain equipments.

 

“Isn’t there a diner outside campus?” she overheard a student one morning.

“Yeah, they’re looking for new workers since the amount of— “

 

And Erica’s never ran that quickly out of campus before.

 

A week into the job and everything was great. She usually got the night shift because of her classes but on Saturday, she allowed herself to take the morning shift. Cynthia mentioned that Saturday mornings were the ones with interesting customers and well, since she was free during those mornings, she decided that hey, she could take up the job.

Allison Argent and Scott McCall were apparently part of this morning shift as well. Boyd, one of the students she usually saw around campus, was the one working on the kitchen at that time.  

It was a Saturday morning when it happened. Scott, Allison and even Cynthia went to her and pointed out a specific man to serve. This man, when Erica saw, looked aggressive, writing on his notebook plus skimming through piles of paper and he also seemed to be in a bad mood. Actually, if Erica were to admit, he actually looked terrifying but _please,_ she was a Reyes. She could totally handle an asshole— well, an _attractive asshole_ at that. With her newborn confidence and total makeover, she could even try and flirt at him.

She’s been with men that like that— serious, probable workaholic, rare dates here and there. Erica could totally handle this.

She walked towards the table, smirking.

 

Once she reached the man, she gave out a purr, “Been working hard, hm?”

The customer merely glanced at her for a second, his eyebrows dancing in confusion then he tilted his head. He looked at Erica as if she were _unusual_ , “Not really, no.”

That threw the blonde off for a moment before she straightened up again, “You sure? Because with all those papers and how tense your shoulders look, I can suggest a way to help relieve that.” She added a wink at the end but that somehow just made the other more tense. She had to force herself not to frown. Men in her class would have blushed or would have been flustered. This man, despite the look he was giving Erica at the moment, was _the_ _unusual_ one here.

 

“Look, I really don’t think I need that.”

“You sure, hot stu—“

 

“Yeah, he’s totally sure.” It was a new voice that came from behind Erica. A bit stunned, she abruptly turned to be faced with another student. He was wearing a smug smile at her, “He’s already got me for that, Barbie.”

She took in the person’s appearance in front of her before it clicked in her mind that she recognized him. She raised an impressed brow at him because this was _Stilinski_ —hyperactive, snarky spazz that usually came in the lab to harass the med students asking about different wounds and injuries in his free time.

Erica couldn’t help the smirk and she let out a low whistle. She looked at the stranger who was sitting behind her then back at Stilinski, “Stilinski, huh? Never would’ve pegged you to be the type.”

 

She saw the boy’s eyes widen in a second’s span of surprise before the realization dawned on his face, “Girl who threw that beaker at that jerk! Who totally deserved it, by the way.”

She cringed at that label and glared at him to which Stilinski merely laughed at.

 

“Call me Erica.” She crossed her arms, “Good thing you’re cute, I would’ve gutted you for calling me Barbie.”

Another loud laugh was the response, seriously. The man laughed with his whole body and Erica would’ve found it annoying if it weren’t contagious. She could feel her lips twitching to another smirk.

 

“Stiles. And it makes us even since you flirted with my super hot, total Greek god, but adorable—“

“ _Stiles!”_

 _“—_ boyfriend right there. Which speaking of,” Stiles gently moved Erica a bit to the side before leaning down and kissing the other guy on the cheek, “Sorry, I’m late.”

Mr. Aggressive suddenly flashed a shy smile which _oh my, they’re that cute it’s too gross._

 

Erica shook her head at this before flashing the two a cringe, “Alright, losers. Stop being gross and let me just take your orders so all this could be done.”

 

After taking the orders, Erica started walking away. As she was on her way to the kitchen, she tried her best to ignore overhearing that Mr. Aggressive – Derek, was apparently just doing his younger sister’s essay on Charlotte’s Web.

 

* * *

 

 

**V – ISAAC LAHEY**

Isaac needed a job. Well, Isaac needed extra money. That would mean he needed a job.

He knew he could just ask Jordan for money since he was his guardian but no, he couldn’t do that. It’d be too selfish. Jordan’s been providing for him for god knows how long, he didn’t need any more bad news on how Isaac was lacking a few to pay for a textbook. Plus, he’s a college boy now. He could handle getting money for himself.

This is then the main cause to how Isaac Lahey ended up working for _Vernon’s_ every Saturday afternoon to help Boyd out in the kitchen.

 

On a certain week, he was scheduled for a tutoring session with one of his schoolmates on one Saturday afternoon to which he had to call Cynthia for.

 

“So you won’t be here for the afternoon is what you’re saying, dear?”

Isaac nodded to himself as he let out another apology. The lady in the other line merely chuckled though, “Oh hon, don’t worry about it, alright? I could always help Boyd out like I usually do,”

Though Cynthia’s tone was genuinely assuring, Isaac still couldn’t help but feel guilty about the whole thing. He can’t help it, with everything he’s been through as a child especially when he’d done things wrong, he seriously felt bad.

 

“O-Oh, how about in the morning? I could go in the morning, might be a bit late but I could help out in the store for a few hours?”

For some odd, strange reason, he could feel the old lady smile in the other line as she let out a considering hum.

“If it’s what you want, dear, just pass by if you could. But it’s all fine if you don’t either, alright? Saturday mornings are usually the most interesting so it’d be fantastic if you do get to join us. Even if it were for a short moment.”

Isaac felt himself let out a breath before he said his thanks and hung up.

 

Saturday morning came and Isaac got to the shop an hour after opening hour. As he was about to go to the back in a rush, he was surprised to be greeted by McCall, wearing a huge grin, “Hey! Lahey, right?”

Isaac nodded at the recognition and the next thing he knew was that he was getting handed a notepad and a pen, “Sorry for the short notice but Cynthia said it’d be nice if you could try waiting for today.”

Lahey tried his best not to feel confused and simply shrugged it off as he said, “Alright.”

 

Erica Reyes and Allison Argent apparently worked in the morning shift as well and they both greeted Isaac with a smile, Reyes’ seemingly terrifying and Argent’s dimpling. He tried not to feel weird as their smiles grew when he got nearer to them.

“Where’s Cynthia?” he couldn’t help but ask as he looked around. He was used to her walking around the store.

It was Argent who answered, “At the back helping Boyd out. And don’t you worry, she specifically chose to do that for this morning so you could try waiting for today.” The smile she wore now was more excited and Isaac’s forcing himself to pretend he couldn’t notice Erica’s eyes glinting playfully at him.

 

The door’s ring was what cut the conversation short and he found himself staring at the pair who just went in. Erica leaned into his space and grinned, “Those are your first customers for today, Lahey.” At the same time, Scott finally appeared and pat his back, “Just ask for their orders and easy-peasy. Maybe you could have a chat with them but that’s only if you want or, well, depends really.” He smiled at Isaac as well before giving him a thumbs-up.

Okay, seriously, now, Isaac somehow felt like he was going into war.

 

He approached the table two tables away from the jukebox and faced the customers, forcing up a smile, “Good morning and welcome to _Vernon’s_. May I take your order?”

They were both students from school, obviously. Two average guys, one scary looking and another beaming with actual sunshine. The waiter shook his head to himself at that description and focused on taking their orders.

It was the scary one who spoke first, ordering some pancakes and saying something like, “And Cynthia knows the amount of syrup I use,” quietly, as though embarrassed. Isaac wrote that down and looked at the cheery one to find him staring at Isaac with wide, stunned eyes.

This made the waiter feel a bit confused, “Um, how about you, sir?”

This must have snapped the boy out of his trance, if the whole body jerk hadn’t gave it away. “Oh! Um, whatever um, whatever Derek’s getting. Pancakes. Erm, minus the syrup, Jesus. Tell Cynthia that I don’t want Derek’s amount of syrup. Please underline that. Um. Also coffee. Yeah. Coffee would be great.”

 

Really, Isaac tried not to get too concerned but even this _Derek_ guy was giving his companion a confused look. The waiter wrote down the order and as he was about to walk away, he heard his name getting called. By the same customer who had been acting weird.

“Isaac! Er, Isaac, right? Isaac Lahey.”

 

The customer stood up, blinked a few and suddenly settled at flashing Isaac a fond look. Isaac really, _really_ tried his best not to feel uncomfortable but he was probably failing because said customer suddenly shook his head, cheeks flushing pale pink, “Sorry just, I can’t help it just,” he gave out a soft chuckle and ran a hand through his messy hair, “You’re… Heh, wow man, you’ve grown it’s just, it’s just nice. To see you. It’s nice to see you.”

Now, Isaac was beyond confused because a complete stranger, who was probably just a year or so older than him, just said he _grew up nice_.

 

He turned his head to look at the other waiters and waitresses but it looked like they’ve got no idea on what’s happening either.

 

“Ah shit, wow, I’m probably creeping you out. Wow, okay, you probably don’t remember me but I remember you and just— Wow, that totally didn’t sound creepy, Stiles wow. Okay so just, how’s Jordan? Is he treating you well? If he isn’t then I’m totally kicking his ass. Where do you stay now? Live? Where does Parrish even live? But seriously, he’s treating you well, right? Congrats though, on your dad, just, for him, being proven guilty just, okay, I know it’s been how many years but okay I’m just really glad you’re okay.”

It was Isaac’s turn to stare at the customer with wide, stunned eyes. There were so much questions popping in his head like, ‘How can you possibly know about Jordan??? How can you possibly know about my father???’ But instead of replying with those, he took in the stranger’s appearance. Those wide, manic eyes, the upturned nose, that stupid nervous expression on his face— Isaac’s eyes widen even more as a bunch of memories flood his brain that he had to force his legs not to give out.

“Stilinski?”

The student grinned at this, “Bingo.”

 

This was Stilinski, that annoying hyperactive kid who couldn’t keep his nose out of anyone’s business. The one who followed thirteen-year-old Isaac around when he found out about the bruises and befriended him through shit. The one who treated some wounds, one who shouted at Isaac then at Isaac’s bullies then sooner or later, on one night where Stiles apparently followed him home, shouted at Isaac’s father as well. The one who called the cops on his father, proved his father’s crime, and the one who introduced Jordan. The one who saved Isaac’s life all in a span of a year before the Stilinskis had to move out to another destination within California.

 

Isaac wanted to say something but every time he opened his mouth, no words would come out. He wanted to say his thanks, tell him that he and Jordan are doing great but nothing. Nothing would come out probably because of that shock.

He assumed Stiles would get hurt but instead, the boy let out a loud laugh, “Aw man, don’t hurt yourself trying, buddy. It’s all cool, I’d be speechless too.” The older suddenly pat Isaac’s shoulder and gave him another smile, “But seriously dude, I’m glad you’re doing great.” Isaac couldn’t do much but nod at this.

“Welp, okay so! Alright, sorry for taking up some of your time while you’re working but hey, maybe we could catch up? Sometime. Not now. Tell me about Jordan, how’s it been since we left. Dad’s the sheriff now, man, isn’t that crazy. Just yeah.” He suddenly ruffled Isaac’s curls and the waiter tried not to feel the rush of familiarity he felt. Isaac nodded again.

They said their quick farewells at that and Isaac tried not to smile when he overheard the exchange of words from the pair he just left.

 

_“You were great.”_

_“No dude, that was like, seriously creepy. Fuck, he probably thinks I’m creepy—“_

_“No, Stiles. You were great.”_

 

* * *

 

**VI – VERNON BOYD**

It was literally two minutes after the diner had just turned the “Close” sign to “Open” when Hale had ran into the shop. Boyd had a small window to where he could peak through the main dine-in of the shop and he saw that the said student didn’t even bother getting a seat. Just went straight to McCall and Argent who were near the cash register and that’s when he heard his voice, breathless, coated with absolute panic, “Need… Boyd, he— Stiles! Just, Boyd. Hah… Need Boyd to… hah…”

 

Boyd couldn’t help but raise a brow at this. Seeing that no customers had went in, he allowed himself to go out of the kitchen to meet the boy. Upon saying the student’s name, he was cut off with the retaliation of his own name, “BOYD.”

Derek’s eyes were manic and his body was tense as he was trying to get words out of his mouth, “Stiles, date. Today. His mom. I— I lost track of the time and I ended up staying in the school library all night just when I should’ve been there last night and this morning and today’s the day and he really needs your— your—“

Boyd shook his head at this and gave the boy a sympathetic look. He flicked Derek’s forehead and told him to breathe, “I know, I know. Stay there. Give me twenty minutes, alright?” then he went back to the kitchen.

With the ingredients he was already provided with, he made what he usually made the past few years on this very specific date. His grandmother’s chicken soup recipe.

As he was finished, he placed it on a disposable container and went back out again to see Derek on one seat, back hunched and his fingers drumming his knee.

All the waiters and waitresses were staring at him in confusion, even his grandmother, but Boyd merely shrugged it off, “Here, he’s probably still asleep. Or I don’t know what Stiles usually does.” He handed the container to Derek who was staring at him with complete gratitude, eyes round and even glinting. Seriously, he really doesn’t know what to do with Stiles and Derek. They deserve each other.

Once the two have said their farewells, there was silence in the restaurant. Huh, no customers still. Well, it’s still pretty early, anyway.

Boyd was about to re-enter the kitchen when he heard Erica’s voice, “What was that about?”

Then Allison’s, “How’d you know what he wanted???”

And Scott’s, “You know each other???”

 

Boyd looked at them with one brow raised, “Yeah. Live across my place.”

 

Then they all stared.

 

“You knew them all along??? You knew they were together?”

“For years, yes.”

 

“And that Derek’s the one studying archi while Stiles was studying to be an investigator??”

“Yes, Scott.”

 

“That Derek had a huge sweet tooth and that they knew about Isaac?”

“Yes, Allison, and Stiles have mentioned him before.”

 

More silence.

 

“What did you give him?” It was Cynthia asking this time. Boyd merely shrugged, “Chicken soup. Both of them can’t cook so I sometimes come over and cook. They’re good company. Knew Derek since high school too.”

The three workers tried not to stare at the amount of words the cook had just let out.

 

“The boy looked in distress. Did anything happen?” Boyd gave his grandmother and small smile, “Happens every year. The two’s been through loads. Says your chicken soup’s magic.”

 

And like that, the conversation had ended.

 

The old lady couldn’t help but chuckle, “Two nice boys, aren’t they.”

 

Boyd shook his head to himself, “Sure.” The other three did nothing but merely agree to the cook’s words. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading ! 
> 
> all the love.


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